Chapter 2... (Chapter 1 - March 29, 2011 post)

The Death Notice

People are in your life for a reason...that's it. Screw that "season or lifetime" add-on. That gives people too many options. Too many opportunities to reminisce and over-assign their feelings to (often) unwilling characters in their lives. To define "season" and "lifetime" subjectively. To assume that they were just as integral to someone's life as they made others in their own. Having too many options leads people astray. So simplify it...a reason...ONE reason...and it doesn't have to be grand, deep or profound!

I always have these fantastic thoughts too damn late. Like that cute guy who held the door open for me as I approached the door to the bank. He was just there to ensure my entrance. That's it. He wasn't meant for the long conversation I ended up having with him, and definitely not the exchange of numbers that followed. Of course, the possibility of him only being a hot ass doorman never crossed my mind until I found myself (once again) out on a date wishing I was at home watching a “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit” marathon. It just wasn’t right. The chemistry just wasn’t there. Or maybe it was me…as usual…not…there.

Haven’t been “there” for a while. You know…in that place where your hands are open and empty and you just can’t wait to receive whatever the hell the world decides to send your way. The last time I felt this way, I messed around and fell in love with someone I was just supposed to meet for a reason…to read my father’s eulogy. That’s it. He wasn’t meant for me to love…evidently, because he isn’t here now. Hasn’t been for a while. And just when I was getting used to the idea that we were one of those fluke relationships that happen when you think you’re grown, but are actually too immature to realize that real adults don’t “think they’re grown,” our paths unnecessarily crossed again and brought me to this sick, reflective blog post (which I’m writing, coincidentally, 10 years to the day I met him). This time, the intersection was deliberate…and painful.

Suddenly, I’m 20 again. Trying to find a way to bury my dead issues. Trying to get over the man who hurt me most. Then it was my sperm donor. Now, it’s Vaughn Stokes. (It’s been years since I’ve written his name…and it still stings a little.) Back then, I was damn sure a reason-season-lifetime person, believing in soul mates, “meant to be,” and the planets aligning. About to graduate from college, head all in the clouds, and stupid enough to believe that a male really understood how to love me just because he knew how to spell all the words in that trite phrase, “I love you.” (Hmmm) He even said it first. And when you’re young, you think that means something…

But in the light of too-damn-old-to-believe-in-fairytales, perhaps it was just a serving suggestion. You know, like on the front of a box of Stove Top stuffing. It’s chicken-flavored, so (naturally) there’s a picture of the stuffing next to a nice, juicy chicken leg and a green vegetable. And the buyer believes that’s the way to serve it instead of one of many alternatives that may not even include chicken. That’s how I view his love – a serving suggestion for a processed side dish. An experiment of words first with hope that actions would follow. Maybe the phrase ended in a question mark, and in my pre-blogger days, I ignored the punctuation and the emphasis. I love you? I love you? Maybe I should have paid attention and evaluated the reason for the quick proclamation. Perhaps it was my wanting to believe it and his wanting to mean it that caused our self-destruction. Maybe we let each other down…

…and these thoughts flooded my mind because I received an invitation to his wedding. TODAY! Of all days, he would choose this day to deliver his coup de grace. Would someone who ever loved me do something like that? If he knew me at all, wouldn’t he have known that I wouldn’t want to be there? We aren’t friends anymore, but this aggressive blow went straight to my heart…or what’s left of it. I left most of it with him when I walked away from our twisted romance five years ago. He was not kind enough to return it, unless, of course, it was pulverized and left at the bottom of the envelope. I didn’t check. Once I saw his name next to another woman’s and connected to the phrase “witness the fulfillment of their love and commitment to one another,” I dropped the envelope and walked away. I have no intentions of picking it up until I’m ready to throw it in the garbage. But for now, I won’t even be in the same room with it. Not that it really matters because he’s here again…with me…disturbing the peace of mind I was trying to believe in…just like I tried to believe in an “us” that was really only supposed to be “me” and “him.”

I turned a reason into a season, hoping it would end in a lifetime…and in one way it did. A lifetime of trying to forget him who forgot me long ago.

And that’s...the Truth…For Now…
Stormy S.
August 10, 2011

Aruba, Aruba! (In My Marley, Welcome-to-Jamrock voice!)

A vacation was just what I needed. Here's what I realized on the beach...

I AM NOT A TEACHER ANYMORE; I'M A PROFESSOR WHO NEEDS A PLATFORM, NOT A CLASSROOM...

I need to find another job...already...

I am a person of many convictions...and won't compromise the good ones.

I need to take a vacation every year...and deserve it...

I can go without social networking and phones for a long time...and not miss them...

I need to delete contacts from my phone; I don't need too many people there just to be "there."

I'm still trying to figure out what this world is really all about...

I'm more fun than many think.

I'm a writer...

I have writer's block ...  : - (

I need more sleep and a healthier diet.

I like strawberry coladas!

I love my family...well...the members I actually interact with...

I want to help kids, but I also want to be well-paid.

I have many eye issues, but I'm thankful I can see.

God is most present for me in places like Arbua.

I look good in a bathing suit!

I need to relax much more than I do.

I truly have a love-hate relationship with America!

If I have kids, they are not going with me when I return to Aruba! And I will go back!

N.Y. to D.C. Direct

She called me because she was frustrated about him. Well, actually it was about not having him there, but she didn't admit to feeling any kind of way really. Just annoyed. The type of "annoyed" that prompts you to pick up the phone and call your close friend in D.C. all the way from N.Y. to say, "I'm annoyed." And the more she talked about nothing in particular, the more I understood the root of her feelings, so I waited to hear his name. 

Didn't have to wait too long before she said his name and expressed frustration over him not being able to clearly express wanting to do things apart. And on top of all that...he didn't call back when he said he would. I understood this feeling. It wasn't annoyance or frustration. It was love.

The part of love I cannot forget is wanting the subject around, just because you love him. When you love someone just because they are who they are, you want them to be able to enjoy life without you...but there are times you just want an inkling that they feel the way you feel and enjoy life best with you. And when they aren't around and don't bother to call you (or call you back) to show you they feel the same, it's "frustrating" and "annoying." You know that you truly love someone when they can throw off the entire balance of your day by not being a part of it. I remember that. I remember love. It was so long ago for me, but that feeling of heart flutters and warm bellies at the thought of just seeing him will never be far enough from the present to help me rest well. But I was happy that if someone didn't love me that way, I could at least receive assurance that feelings like that existed. That I wasn't crazy for loving my subject that way all those years ago. And just because that love was never returned, it didn't mean it wasnt good love.

And understanding how she felt, I kept her from jumping over the cliff I fell from when he fell out of love with me, and assured her that she was overreacting. And that he loved her the same. And that he wasn't stepping on her feelings on purpose. And soon he called to confirm how right I was...

What they share is rare in the days of settling, loving the one you're with, and making it work. It's no-bullshit...raw...appreciation for one another and respect for the possibilities therein. It's love...in the age of everything but...

Narcoleptic Nightmares

One week he crossed the line, talking about how much he thinks about the random reckless act of idiocy we committed three years ago. The next week he was back to reality, acting like what he said was normal and telling me he was narcoleptic; I was mad I cared. I even sent him an email expressing my concern. That's the dumb side of me. I can't turn off my concern for people, even when they show me it isn't necessary because they don't care either way.

Men often let themselves "off the emotional hook," and act like there is no such thing as taking responsibility for what happens when they open their mouths. His defense when I confronted him about what he said was, "I didn't know you would take that so seriously..." Seriously dude?

Do you really think changing the subject to your health problems wasn't going to allow me to question your intentions when you verbally vomited your "in-the-moment" feelings all over the front seat of my car? Or was I just supposed to think that because you have elsewhere obligations that you're allowed to play with the single girl who writes the interesting stories because...she writes, so she understands fiction? Yeah...I know...I'm, you know, "too serious..." Whatever... I'm always crystal clear with my desires, and I'm not one to have those played with by anyone. Why would you light the fuse of a fire cracker and then act surprised because she had the nerve to explode? Seems kind of stupid to me.

My frustration gives birth to nothing but more frustration, however. Men always win. There's always a woman waiting in the wings. Their minds allow so much distraction during a typical day full of their own issues and problems that there's no room to think about how their actions affect the insignificant people in their lives. I understand this now, so I'm placing all this at the feet of the culprit and walking away. I accept that he will not follow me... AND NOW THE TOAST...

...I lift this mug of moroccan mint tea to "amazing, radioactive" you. I'm glad one of us can retreat to the sweet bed of memory without wishing for the chance to do things differently - to show some self-respect and not send the message that it's okay to be treated like a fleeting fantasy with no substance. Knowing what I know now, I would definitely have done things differently. I would have signed out my email and pretended I didn't know you for a while. I wouldn't have shared my thoughts or writing with you. But there's nothing we can do about that now...so I'm letting myself off the hook for caring for you a little too much. Not that it was love, or anything close, but even the little bit of the damn I gave was too taxing...

Sweet Dreams...

"Grateful for..." Saturday, July 2, 2011

This week was a rough one. My car was hit. Had to shell out money I didn't have. Found out that professions don't always promote professional respect. Remembered how angry I am. So...as I type this at 4:00 in the morning, I'm grateful for...well...honesty...because that's all I really got at 4:00 in the morning. I wish I had someone to hold...

Vanity...Named "Copperhead"

This was me...the schoolteacher...   

and my hair        up close and personal.

Nice...but the way I've looked for a while.

This is the new me...

...the "Copperhead."

She's sassy......not sure if anyone is ready...

"Grateful for..." Saturday, June 18, 2011 (This is a little late... : - 0 )

FISH TACOS AND FRIENDSHIPS...

We sat in my living room yesterday watching Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives and decided we would have fish tacos (homemade) for dinner tonight. I'm sitting on Bo's couch right now (the following day) waiting for them to finish cooking. And I'm having the best time I've had in a while. I'm grateful...and HUNGRY! :-)